


These thrills aren't as cheap as they used to be.

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Kink, M/M, Top!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It'd started out as stress relief, as a makeshift sort of penance.</p><p>But sometimes Draco wonders how much longer he has to pay.</p><p>OR</p><p>kinky sex, cheating spouses, no ones hands are clean these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These thrills aren't as cheap as they used to be.

**Author's Note:**

> ..............  
>  depending on your definition of consent.... this is dubious consent. Use of safe words once the sex actually starts but the beginning conversation.... not so much.

When a second trail of smoke began to mingle with his, he exhaled heavily and snubbed the cigarette out on the dining room table. Sure, it would damage the wood, but it was nothing the house elves couldn't fix. Besides, it's not like it would even make the list of things Astoria would hate him for tonight. Nicotine was so low on his list of vices and faults that it barely ranked at all these days, he'd know. After all, she had listed them off in order just a few hours ago, sitting across from him at this table with too many settings and not enough bodies to fill it.

Finally Draco had shoved himself up from the table, refusing to look back as he walked towards the west wing. He wished he could say that was his own morality speaking up, however quietly, but in these moments all he could think of was Astoria, beautiful Astoria straddling him on their first anniversary, the brush of her hair against his chest and the whispered word in his ears. The truth was he could have done it anywhere, it didn't have to be the west wing- just not their bed, but the long walk gave him plenty of time to ruminate, to torture himself, and the smoker following him knew more than anyone what a masochist he was.

Knew exactly how to play him, what made the shame bubble inside of him and in what ways. It's part of what made this entire dance madness. They were both married and they'd never been friends. It'd started somewhere towards the end of the final battle, a sort of stress relief, a sort of penance. Draco had many things to be sorry about those days, after all, and so very few ways to make things even. The man behind him had been happy to play book keeper. 

Suddenly he'd stopped, pale fist clenched by his side and still looking forward he'd broken the silence. "My wife's in the other hall. I should tell you to leave."

"She's not, and you should. But you won't"

"How do you know?"

His answer had come in the form of his shoulder's being slammed back against the wall, a rough grip between his legs and he'd gasped as teeth clamped down on his shoulder. The hand between his legs had tightened its hold until the gasp turned into a whimper, before relaxing and giving a sympathetic rub. The other man released the hold on his neck only to transfer the bite to another spot.

"I'll change the wards." It's an empty threat, one he's said too many times to be taken seriously.

They'd stood there, Draco's weight mostly supported by the other man's pressed against his and that's how he knew when something changed. The tension in the other body bled out and the blond relaxed in turn, content as teeth turned to an apologetic tongue, only to bite down a startled noise when the body removed itself completely. He'd stood there listening to the steps for as long as he could stand it before calling out.

"Potter-"

"Strip and then come here. In that order."

"What?"

Potter turned and for the first time that night Draco could have met his eyes, but he looked down instead, shaking fingers going to undo the buttons on his robes, taking the time it took to fold them neatly to try and clear his head, to try and talk himself out of this. They'd played around before, but something was different this time and still he continued, toeing off his shoes and socks and looking up to meet Potter's eye once he was down to his boxers.

"All the way, hurry up. I know you can follow orders better than that."

Nodding the blond had lowered his gaze once more, obeying and had begun to walk towards the other man when Potter had stopped him again with an amused 'Who told you that you could walk'. Knees had met wood shakily, but Draco had done his best to make sure his motions stayed graceful. Even with a flush to his chest he had no interest in giving Potter the pleasure of seeing any more signs of shame. When the grey of Potter's slacks was all he could see fingers buried themselves in blonde locks, forcing his head backwards until he had no choice but to stare into green eyes.

"Now, you're going to crawl back to your room and pose real pretty for me on the bed."

"That's not a -" His head jerked backwards and Draco arches his back to avoid his hair being pulled out and shuts up, if Potter wanted to get himself cursed that was his own business. It's not Draco's job to think in these moments, just take.

So he did, conscious of the way his half-hard prick swung between his legs as he led the way to the bedroom, doing his best to ignore Potter's whistles. He sat back on his heels when the closed door had come into focus, refusing to look back and ask permission but also unwilling to break the rules this early on. Potter made an appreciative noise, leaning down to ruffle the hair he had pulled earlier before opening the door and motioning for Draco to continue his task.

The blond had barely settled on the bed for a moment, had just enough time to brace himself, knees spread and face pressed against the comforter when he felt Potter's hand settle almost gently  on either side of his waist. There was no point in denying that it was these moments, when there was no pretense that Draco loved most. The warmth and slight scratch of calloused hands running up and down his body as the other man drank his fill, allowed himself to melt into the touches, even when Potter's fingers twisted and pulled at his nipples. 

"Come on, I said I wanted you posed" 

Draco almost protests that he had posed, or did Potter think that he spent his nights exposing himself to the elements, but there's something about the way his fingers linger for but a moment on slim calves before his weight shifts off the bed that clues him into what it is that Potter wants. Swallowing the last remnants of his pride, unsure if he's resentful for what he's about to do or grateful that it means it won't be as rough or even... if he was being honest, resentful that Potter wasn't likely to be as rough with him this way. But Draco wasn't interested in being honest, kept his eyes focused on a far wall as he rolls onto his back and pulls his legs back to his chest. He tenses again when he feels the slim tip of Potter's wand first against one thigh and then the other before relaxing into the ribbons that snake their way against his skin, locking him into position.

"Look at me." Draco rolled his left wrist, trying to get comfortable with the limited amount of motion he was granted, ignoring the second request and then the third, keeping his attention on what he could feel. 

"If that's the way you want to play it, " He feels more than sees Potter grab his wand off the bed again, and suddenly everything is in full clarity as a mirror shimmers into view along the wall and Draco couldn't look away if he wanted to. Potter had lost his seeker's build over the years of being an auror, too muscular and no where near compact enough, but it had it's own benefits. Even now, with the man fully dressed in grey slacks and a button down, Potter had a way of holding himself that commanded respect even from the most unwilling. But it wasn't Potter that grey eyes were drawn to, but his own slim figure.  Red and gold ribbons intertwined around white thighs, securing his hands there with dainty bows and despite the new flush of shame that washed over him, he couldn't help but stare at the way his cock lay stiff against his stomach, can't help the passing thought that if he were a bit more flexible he'd be able to take the head in his mouth. Would be able to taste the little bead of precum that was beginning to form.

There were times that Potter was cruel, that he'd been bent over tables or tied to beds and left. Times he'd had to glamour bruises to keep Astoria from commenting about finger prints along his throat or crop marks on his thighs- the man was particularly fond of anything that meant Draco would be uncomfortable but not enough so that he'd heal anything prematurely. In the beginning they'd met up often, sometimes more than once a week, but as they'd grown, as the war had ended and they'd settled into married life- it had gotten further and further apart and Potter had gotten rougher and rougher- as if he wanted Draco to feel him even in the weeks he wasn't there. 

 Or years. He wasn't quite sure, but the Potters had announced the birth of their first child shortly before the last time. Draco had assumed that the heir meant their games were over, that Potter had a life now, and for a while there it seemed he was right. 

"Bloody hell," somehow in the moments that his mind had wandered Potter had lubed up his hand and had one finger knuckle deep within him. He could feel it withdraw slowly, before pushing back in roughly.

"You remember your safe word?" Draco nodded minutely, disturbed by the sudden question but understood when one finger became two without the necessary preparation. He bit down on his lip to avoid crying out, doing his best to steady his breath and accept the intrusion. Potter's fingers were thick, much like the rest of him, and he seemed unconcerned with the fact that it had been years since Draco had had anything inside of him like this.  But that's why they have a word, one word and it would all stop.

Completely, Draco recognizes.  There'd been times before, where he'd hung from restraints, sobbing and never sure if it was from the emotional relief of being able to scream for once, or from the sheer pain resonating from the lashes on his back. They played hard, Potter constantly pushing him to take more and more, always making sure that Draco knew his word, and in the moments that he used it Harry would undo the restraints and allow his full weight to rest against him. Sometimes he had even carried him to the bathroom, washed him carefully or just held him as he returned to himself. No matter how far they went, Potter had always kept his word to make it safe for him to stop. 

Draco's eyes fluttered closed at the sound of a zipper and then hands gripped his calves pushing them back further as something even thicker replaced the fingers. It burned, and he was so full but Draco pushed out, allowing himself to get lost as Potter forced his way in. He loved it when Potter fucked him like this, loved it when Potter stayed buttoned up in comparison to Draco's nudity. 

"Merlin you're tight, love seeing you like this, all tied up and spread for me. Wish I could come home to it every night. You'd love it too, wouldn't you?"  Potter kept up a steady stream of commentary and Draco finally found himself relaxing enough to enjoy each thrust. There would be bruises on his legs tomorrow from the way that the other man had him bent almost in half but he could't bring himself to complain. Especially not when every other comment out of the Gryffindor's mouth was about how hot he was, about how much he wanted to be with him, wanted to use him.

"Fucking thought about this all day, ever since I saw her. Knew I had to come back here, it's been too long and you still fit like a glove. Like you were made for me. Want to fuck you in the morning and then again at night, want to make you wear a plug shaped like my cock. Fuck," Draco moaned at a particularly hard thrust, Potter's fingers digging into him painfully before relaxing their grip in order to slide down and undo the ribbons around his wrists and thighs.  

With a slap to his ass Potter ordered him to get up and shakily Draco had complied, rolling over and pushing up onto his knees. This time three fingers slide inside him, and Potter marvels loudly at how he gapes and wonders aloud whether or not he could fit his entire his fist up there. For a moment Draco was afraid he'd try but instead he exhales sharply into the pillow as a loud slap rings throughout the room, followed quickly by another and then another. It's just Potter's hand, but the sting is enough to distract him from his still throbbing cock. 

"Have I told you how good you look in red? Red ribbon, red lace, red from my crop or belt.... Fucking Gorgeous prat." 

There's no point in responding, Draco knew this, instead stayed as still as possible until Potter nudged him to move over,  doing as he was told when Potter demanded he straddle him but not sit down on his cock yet. So he hovered, naked pale body over Potter's still mostly clothed form.

"That's right, love watching your thighs tremble. You want this don't you? Want my cock up your ass. Want me to fill you up. Want me to fuck every thought out of that pretty head of yours. You can have it, but you know what you have to do first. "

"Please," It's been so long and Draco wasn't sure he wants to say it. He loved this, loved the rest of it. Loved being stretched past his limit, loved the bruises, loved the high and the pain, but this part? he doesn't need it anymore. He just isn't sure how to say that so instead he goes on, though now more for Potter than himself, " Please. Fuck, Forgive me, please. I'm sorry."

and there's Potter's sharp nod, and Draco allows himself to drop onto his cock,  crying out as he does.

"Fuck, not going to last much longer, touch yourself as you ride me. Fuck your hand as you fuck yourself on me. Want to see you lose control"

Potter's voice was his last anchor and he wrapped his fingers around his own prick, barely managing a few strokes before Potter took hold of his hips, slamming into him a final time before coming in spurts. It's this feeling that pushed Draco over the edge, and he could hardly breathe as orgasm over took him. For what seems like eternity they stay like this, Draco panting as he leans over him, Potter sprawled boneless without an apparent care in the world until he pushed himself up with an amused smirk.

"Someone made a mess."

It was not an order, there was no demanding or demeaning tone but Draco laughed and leaned down to lick up the cum anyway before allowing himself to collapse on his back, replaying the night's events in his mind. 

"Hope you realize we're both probably infertile now."

"Hm?"

"Astoria cursed the bed on our anniversary, said she loved me but knew what 'men of my stature' were capable of forgetting when tempted. Swore I'd never have a heir if I brought another witch into her bed."

"Good thing I'm no witch, not that I think it matters."

Of course it mattered, sure they'd already had one prodigy, but there wasn't a doubt in Draco's mind that Potter wanted a mini zoo's worth of children, and there wasn't a single person to take on the Malfoy mantle yet. But it wasn't worth the argument, not when he could continue to lying here barely touching Potter, both of them still content from the night's activities. Despite this, he still has one last question,

"How'd you know Astoria wasn't here? That was a gamble."

"Figured I was betting on a sure thing considering where I saw her earlier tonight." Silence and then, "You really don't know do you?"

"Humor me."

"Ginny and I..... we're getting divorced. It's all but final now, but we've been trying to keep it out of the papers. Went today to get some stuff finalized."

"I didn't ask for the current events of your life, Potter. Just how you knew- no. no. bloody hell Potter tell me you don't mean what I think you mean."

Potter said nothing, and Draco stared at the ceiling all feeling of being sated gone in a flash. It's not like they'd had a happy marriage by any means, or that he should be shocked by what was going to happen, and yet he was. He'd always figured that if Astoria was going to leave him it'd have been years ago back when him and Potter were fucking on a regular basis, not now, not when it'd been years since he'd cheated. Minutes now, he corrected himself, but there was no way that Astoria could have known what was going to unfold.

Eventually Draco pushed himself off the bed, numb as he crossed to the closet to grab a dressing robe before heading towards the kitchen. If Potter wanted to zip himself up and follow, he would, Draco had no doubts of this.  But the sound of footsteps never came and instead he sat, fiddling with an unlit cigarette and contemplated whether or not it'd be worth it to try and convince Astoria to not go through with it. The Potters could get divorced if they wanted, they didn't have pureblood standards to live up to and while Draco's own parents weren't around to be disappointed, Astoria's surely would be.

In a fit of frustration he went to the cabinets, rummaging for the tea set before going about making a proper cuppa. Finally as he settled back into his chair, warm tea sloshing from the rim of his cup, the familiar sounds of movement grew louder until he can see Potter moving to pour his own cup, propping himself up on the counter like a heathen once he had it.

"I meant it, you know." Potter looked sincere but sincerely what Draco wasn't sure. Wasn't sure he wanted to know either.

"Meant what?"

"You could come home with me. Stay at Grimmauld. But now that we're free....."

"I'm not sure need forgiveness anymore, at least, not from you." 

Potter's shrug was half hearted, as if he expected some sort of objection, " We could try things like normal people for once, you know...."

When Draco still didn't comment, he continued, " or I'm sure there are some things I need to be forgiven for too."

and that was an idea that held promise. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK8Jys3K6rI  
> I said I'd stop posting fic late at night.  
> I lied.
> 
> ..... sex scenes aren't my forte and neither is past tense so any criticism/places I could fix I would love the feed back.


End file.
